


I'm Dying to Feel Again

by 13thDoctor



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-03 16:25:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10970988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13thDoctor/pseuds/13thDoctor
Summary: Sweeney’s eyes sparkled as he shrugged. “I think you’re curious,” he murmured, his voice lowering with each word. “I bet ya can’t stop thinkin’ about little old me.” Shadow rolled his eyes, so Sweeney stepped closer. “About this,” he finished, practically on a breath, and ducked his head.





	I'm Dying to Feel Again

**Author's Note:**

> Although I've read the book, this fic focuses on the characterization and universe established by the television show. The title comes from the song "Gold" by Imagine Dragons. I also have some mood music for you all. If you're interested in listening, or just curious as to what I listened to while writing, look below! Comments and kudos are always appreciated, and enjoy!
> 
> Believer - Imagine Dragons  
> Every Other Freckle - Alt J  
> Inside of You - Hoobastank  
> Love Bites - Halestorm  
> Bedroom Hymns - Florence and the Machine  
> Polyamorous - Breaking Benjamin  
> Honey Whiskey - Nothing But Thieves

Shadow dreamt of gold.

He dreamt of his dead wife, whispering through full lips, skin cold and waxy. He dreamt of her mouth, but when she pulled away, she stuck out her tongue, and there was an all-too familiar golden gleam. When Laura laughed, it was Mad Sweeney’s manic brogue. Coins fell from the sky, piled around her, spilled from her mouth and eyes like metal rivers. Laura was still laughing when the coins buried the two of them, suffocating Shadow. He reached out and tried to swim, but his limbs were heavy and his body ached. Sweeney’s laugh never ceased as Shadow drowned.

Shadow flinched and then he was awake, his foot jerking out to the side on its own accord. He grimaced and stared at the off-white ceiling. It was spotted with water-stained circles, barely holding onto a collection of gnat-filled light fixtures, and in dire need of repair. Shadow felt like he was even worse for wear. With a groan he pulled himself up. There was no sleeping after that, no matter how much he needed it. He swung his legs to the side and curled his toes into the carpet, trying not to consider the stains and their unsavory origins. After scrubbing his face with his hands, he stood, wobbling a bit when all the blood rushed out of his head.

He wore nothing but a pair of briefs he’d bought at a shitty drugstore half a mile up the road. His suit was ruined, ripped and bloodied beyond repair. Every part of him wanted to rest except, apparently, his head. And all it could think about it was Mad-fucking-Sweeney and his impossible coin trick.

No, it wasn’t _impossible,_ Shadow decided, because he could almost understand it. There was some reasonable explanation, and he’d won it before forgetting it. Tugging at the memory was like driving through fog to a known destination; he couldn’t see it, but he could recall the route from his mind if he focused enough. Focusing, though, that was the hard part. Shadow was constantly distracted by the flickering bathroom lights, every noise outside the hall, the thoughts in his own head. Blocking them all out to think of the coin only amplified thoughts about the one person he’d prefer be miles away from his mind.

But there he was, the red-haired bastard. Shadow screwed his eyes shut and counted to ten. He’d never been a man to be easily riled up. In prison he’d kept his head down, ignored the taunts; and he hadn’t wanted to fight Mad Sweeney, not at first. And certainly not for any sort of delight. While Sweeney’s temper could have been managed, his comments about Laura had pushed Shadow over the edge. Now, however, Shadow couldn’t get the feeling of Sweeney’s face off his hands, nor the sound of his breath out of his ears. Shadow hadn’t felt a fire like that, white-hot and fierce, since--

Since Laura.

The realization hit him suddenly. He lurched over to the bathroom and turned the cold faucet on full blast--it was just a lukewarm trickle--but it was something to splash over his face and he was grateful enough for that. With the droplets running down his head and neck he could almost pretend he was underwater, resting for a while. Then he slowly straightened, catching his own eye in the mirror as he did so. “You fucker,” he said. His reflection stared back, helpless and a little pissed off. Shadow would have preferred the ‘pissed off’ look by itself, because the helpless look meant this feeling was a little too real.

Someone knocked on the door and Shadow groaned. He couldn’t imagine room service came this late--early, he corrected himself when the clock on the bedside table glowed 4:13 AM--so it had to be Wednesday. Wednesday he did not want to see again so soon. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you in bed?” he grumbled as he swung the door open.

“A fine idea,” Mad Sweeney said through a wide grin.

“Fuck off,” Shadow replied, and shut the door on Sweeney’s bruised face.

Or, he tried to shut it. Mad Sweeney, in one swift motion, had jammed his enormous foot between the wall and the door, and was now grimacing as Shadow pushed it harder. “Don’ be like that, love,” he groused. Then he smiled as he worked his shoulder in the opening. Shadow was once again struck by Sweeney’s height; even as a self-proclaimed leprechaun, he was certainly more suited to be a giant.

Shadow told himself he only conceded was because he didn’t want to break Mad Sweeney’s foot. Mad Sweeney seemed convinced that that was never a possibility in the first place. A tight smirk graced his lips as he knocked Shadow’s shoulder to get past him.

Mad Sweeney turned slowly in a circle with his arms wide as if admiring a newly decorated room. “‘S nice,” he jeered.

Slamming the motel door shut, Shadow took a deep breath before he marched over to his intruder. “You want to tell me why the fuck you’re here?” he growled. “Or why I didn’t toss you out on your ass when I first saw you on my doorstep?” He hadn’t meant to go off like that, but there was something about the guy that made him bristle.

Sweeney’s eyes sparkled as he shrugged. “I think you’re curious,” he murmured, his voice lowering with each word. “I bet ya can’t stop thinkin’ about little old me.” Shadow rolled his eyes, so Sweeney stepped closer. “About this,” he finished, practically on a breath, and ducked his head. Shadow was about to deck him--he thought a head-butt was coming--when Sweeney reached between their faces and produced a coin between his thumb and forefinger.

Shadow blinked. He licked his lips, tried to follow a pattern, find the coin’s origin. There had certainly been misdirection. There still was, since Sweeney had chosen to stay completely still, his breath stinking of stale whiskey and coke. He chuckled as he tossed the coin in the air. It did not come back down.

His resolve wore away easily under the exhaustion. “Tell me again,” he demanded, glad he didn’t sound like he was _begging_ or something equally humiliating. “Come on, I won; tell me again.”

As soon as Mad Sweeney smiled, Shadow understood why he had sought him out. His next words were unsurprising, as was the way he shifted his weight and crowded closer into Shadow’s personal space. “You won one fight, you won one secret.” He punctuated each _one_ with a jab to Shadow’s collarbone. Shadow did not flinch.

Shadow was already shaking his head, stepping back. “I’m not fighting you. Again.” The only sounds were breaths and voices, quiet and tense. Sweeney cocked his head to the side. The corners of his mouth turned down while he digested the words. When he faced him once more and their eyes met, Shadow felt his tongue go dry.

Mad Sweeney leaned down and turned his mouth into the space just above Shadow’s jaw. “I didn’t ask for another fight, did I?” Frustrated by the other man’s games, Shadow shoved him away. He rolled his eyes when Sweeney followed, pushing his shoulders with two flat palms. “Though I didn’t say I was opposed to it!” Sweeney shouted. It sounded strange following such soft sounds.

“You’re drunk.”

“Sober as a nun, but nice try.”

Shadow whirled to face him, lost his footing, and realized he had been backed into the wall. His whole body braced for the first hit. Sweeney looked a little manic, and then suddenly he didn’t. Shadow could not have followed the change just as he couldn’t follow the coin; it happened that fast, that mysteriously. Sweeney looked… desperate, for sure, maybe nervous. Shadow couldn’t imagine that brazen bully to ever be _scared_ , though.

“We have some… unfinished business,” Mad Sweeney whispered. He snatched Shadow’s wrists from where they’d been hanging at his sides, his grip strong and unyielding as he dragged Shadow’s arms above his head and against the wall.

Shadow’s neck hurt from trying not to break eye contact. Challenges like these were to be matched, not cowered from, or Sweeney would be breaking down his door every time he felt like letting off some steam. Shadow would not be a fucking leprechaun's personal punching bag. “You sure you want me to kick your ass again?” Shadow asked, a bit of laughter in his question.

Sweeney sneered. “Yer a piss-poor listener, Shadow Moon. I told ya I didn’t come to fight.”

“Then why the _fuck_ are you here?” Shadow was tired of games and lies and redheads with drinking problems. “I swear to God, if you say ‘unfinished business’ again or whatever other cryptic bullshit you people keep throwing at me, I’ll lose it.”

The look in Sweeney’s eyes was more fearful than his unwavering voice. “Tell me you don’t feel this and I’ll walk away,” he said. He clutched Shadow’s wrists harder and fell forward to press their bodies together. Shadow gasped. "Go ahead Shadow, tell me you don't want me. Then you'll be a liar as well as a thief." Shadow was about to retort that he hadn’t fucking stolen that coin when Sweeney smashed their mouths together, more of a punch than a kiss.

It was all tongue and teeth right away, with Sweeney biting Shadow’s lips and licking over the sore spots. Kissing back just as forcefully, Shadow arched into Sweeney and struggled against his hold. But Sweeney had him locked down, and now his mouth worked its way down his neck, so any protest died with that. Instead, Shadow gritted his teeth and spat out, “I’m not a liar.”

Sweeney’s answering smile was wicked. He nipped Shadow’s earlobe and shaped his mouth around it. “There ya go, love,” he purred. He laughed hoarsely. His lips were swollen from Shadow’s kisses, and his pupils were blown wide with desire.

As soon as Sweeney released Shadow’s hands, Shadow yanked Sweeney’s head to him and kissed him feverishly. Then he shoved him roughly onto his knees. The noise he made when Sweeney sucked on his bare hip was obscene. He curled his hands into that red hair hard enough to scratch Sweeney’s scalp with his nails. Sweeney damn near _growled_ before peeling down the waistband of Shadow’s briefs.

“Christ,” Shadow said on a breath. He was already half-hard.

“Wrong guy,” Mad Sweeney replied with a grin, and bit the inside of Shadow’s thigh. “I’m sure he’d love to be here, though.” In one swift motion he pulled Shadow’s briefs to his ankles. Whistling approvingly, he shifted his weight to his calves to give the other man some room.

Shadow stepped out of his underwear slowly, enjoying the way Sweeney’s hands twitched while he waited for Shadow to be still. He took his own cock in his hand and stroked it slowly. “You came all this way just to fuck?” he asked. Knowing what he knew of Sweeney, it wasn’t that crazy of a theory.

“Somethin’ like that,” Sweeney agreed. Then he stood, looming over Shadow, and began stripping.

“You have a condom?” Shadow hadn’t carried them in years, never needed one as a married man. He hadn’t expected to want one again so soon.

Even more impressive naked, all bulky muscle and freckled, scarred skin, Sweeney was more godly than any of the people Shadow had met in the past few days. Sweeney winked. “I’m clean. Lucky that way,” he answered genuinely.

And Shadow trusted that, trusted _him_ , even if it felt a bit stupid to do so. “Okay,” he began with a smirk, “but I hope you’re better at this than you are at fighting.”

Mad Sweeney gave one quick bark of laughter before surging forward and slamming Shadow against the wall. Then he licked a path from Shadow’s collarbone to the head of his cock, eventually finding himself back on his knees. A bonfire burned in the pit of Shadow’s stomach, on every part of him that the other man touched. When their eyes met, Sweeney’s full of lust and sheer delight--and his throat full of Shadow’s cock--a groan tore itself from Shadow’s lungs, loud enough that the entire fucking motel could have heard it. Sweeney chuckled, lips sliding farther down Shadow’s cock, and Shadow’s hips stuttered forward.

Instead of holding him back, Sweeney curled his hands behind Shadow’s thighs and urged him forward. Shadow hadn’t intended to fuck the guy’s mouth, but the invitation was clear. Starting slowly, rolling his hips rhythmically, he tested Sweeney’s tolerance. Sweeney dragged his nails down Shadow’s skin, moved his tongue in a way that had Shadow _whimpering._ So Shadow retaliated, thrusting with the fury of a fistfight.

Shadow cursed when Sweeney swallowed around him. A jolt of hot, pulsing pleasure shot straight through his core, settling where Sweeny’s face was pressed into his groin. Too soon Sweeney was gone, sitting back with his hands on Shadow’s thighs to gaze up at Shadow, lips slick and swollen. He swiped the back of his hand against his mouth and laughed. Shadow wanted to pull him back, tell him to finish what he started, but his legs were weak and he wasn’t sure he could form full sentences yet.

"Tell me Shadow, how long's it been since you were inside someone?"

The question itself made Shadow’s throat dry. “Too damn long,” he growled. His head continued spinning as Sweeney kissed his cock and then stood, towering at his full height. When Sweeney stepped away toward the bed, the fire raged hot and wild in Shadow’s stomach.

“Would you like to change that?”

Shadow didn’t trust himself with words. He walked slowly to Sweeney like a predator stalks its prey, eyes dark, muscles aching for the kill. Sweeney’s chest rose and fell rapidly as Shadow backed him up to the edge of the bed. He stood his ground until Shadow pushed him, one hand on his broad chest.

Sweeney flipped over and crawled to the middle of the bed, where he stopped and waited on his hands and knees. He spoke over his shoulder, barely above a whisper. “Don’t be gentle, Shadow Moon. Don’t you fucking disappoint me.”

White-hot pleasure surged through Shadow’s body. The seconds between when he wasn’t touching Sweeney and the moment when he finally was were torture. Bending over Sweeney, Shadow trailed one hand down his abdomen and let it linger there. The other he used to pry open Sweeney’s mouth. Sweeney sucked greedily, knowing where Shadow’s fingers would be next. He laughed gleefully when Shadow angled himself behind him.

As Shadow stretched him open, he held his breath, awed by the sensation of tight muscles and wetness that had been unknown to him for three years. He twisted, then added more fingers, smiling when Sweeney cried out. His cock pulsed, and he could feel Sweeney’s do the same beneath his hand, but he didn’t slow or consider stopping; Shadow made him wait. Then, without warning, he withdrew his fingers and grabbed Sweeney’s hip. Shadow leaned over to press his chest flush against Sweeney’s back and bite down on his shoulder. This mark he did not soothe, but rather bit again, claiming that freckled skin as his own.

Mad Sweeney gritted his teeth but shouted all the same as Shadow shoved deep inside him. His pace was brutal, ceaseless. They were both sweating, and Shadow realized idly that he would be contributing to all those motel stains he had tried to ignore. He grinned. He licked the sweat from Sweeney’s back, pumped his cock, and never stopped pressing in and pulling out. Unraveling beneath him, Sweeney was shaking from holding his position. But Shadow would not allow him to fall to the sheets; he held his arm across Sweeney’s chest and used him to support his own weight.

The bed was creaking so much that Shadow thought it might break. The ancient mattress springs were almost as loud as Sweeney, who was one loud motherfucker in bed. “That all you got?” he asked Shadow cheekily, and Shadow slammed into him. He was rewarded with a gasp and a litany of swears.

Between the blowjob, the time out of practice, and the noises Sweeney made, Shadow did not think he would last much longer. He pulled completely out and then thrusted back in with as much strength as he could manage. Sweeney twisted his neck so Shadow could steal a kiss, forgetting to bite or bruise, letting his lips convey something he wasn’t willing to name. Shadow came during that kiss. His mouth opened wide and Sweeney swallowed his sounds with holy reverence.

Shadow did not stop until Sweeney’s cum spilled over his hand and onto the bed. Even after that he persisted, trying to fuck away the fondness creeping into his heart. Sweeney grasped at him to no avail and finally collapsed, taking Shadow with him to lay in a tangle of limbs. They lay still for awhile until Shadow finally pried himself away.

Sweeney stared at the ceiling and Shadow stared at him. Their breaths eventually fell to a normal volume and slowed to where Shadow could think again. He was about to suggest round two when Sweeney rolled to his side, taking the cum-slick blanket with him.

“Yeah, I’ve had better,” Sweeney said.

Shadow grunted. “Now who’s the liar?” But Sweeney had already fallen asleep. So Shadow closed his eyes and let the weariness overtake the adrenaline-filled afterglow. He dreamt of gold again, but the places it spilled from had little to do with his dead wife.

When he awoke again there was sunlight shining through the cheap, thin curtains. Very little was pleasant about waking: the sheets were crusted with the same mess covering his crotch and thighs, his whole body felt as if he’d been run over by a truck, one of his wounds had opened and bled, and the place beside him was cold and empty.

Something in his head told him to wait. He kept his eyes shut and relaxed his face, feigning sleep. Soon enough he heard the bathroom door click open and felt the bed dip significantly as Mad Sweeney clambered back in. The other man did so with caution, and Shadow would have smiled at the care he took if he was not so invested in his facade. Breathing evenly, he waited. He waited with the distinct impression of being watched.

Shadow thought that Sweeney had fallen back asleep until he felt a feather-light touch--a touch he would have thought Sweeney incapable of--on his cheek. His thumb traced slow, coin-sized circles on Shadow’s face. Eventually there was shift in the air like Sweeney opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Five more minutes past, every one with Sweeney’s hand on Shadow, until Sweeney found the courage to talk.

“Damn your dark eyes,” he murmured.

Shadow’s heart constricted at the sheer misery dripping from those words. He’d heard it before in his voice when he’d realized his dreams with Laura weren’t good enough for her. It was a noise reserved for broken men. For hopeless lovers.

Sweeney kissed him one last time, and then he left.

**Author's Note:**

> Psst, a pretty graphic inspired by this fic: http://daughtersofthanos.tumblr.com/post/162124647483/fanfiction-aesthetics-5-im-dying-to-feel-again


End file.
